Page 18 of Against the Current

Jackie couldn’t, either. Here she sat, at the end of her rope, with very little money to her name. Here she sat in her childhood kitchen, speaking to a son she hadn’t seen in fourteen years. Where had the time gone? Why had she let it slip away?

“Mom,” Ryan said, his voice unsteady. “We need to talk.”

“Yes,” Jackie whispered. “We really do.”

Chapter Seven

June 2010 - Nantucket Island

Ryan Lewis had always dreamed of his wedding day. Unlike other little boys—who, presumably, had imagined becoming basketball stars or pirates or race car drivers or whatever—Ryan had imagined a grand party, his beautiful wife, and a feast for the ages. He’d imagined himself old enough to make such an enormous decision, wiser and better able to fit in a respectable suit. He’d imagined living in the Sutton Estate, raising his children there, and becoming a proud and generous member of Nantucket society.

But now, as he sat with his new wife in their apartment only a few hours after they’d been named man and wife, Ryan was heavy with devastation. His grandfather had died at their reception. His mother had insulted his new wife’s family. His grandmother had suggested he was doing something he would regret one day. Everything had tumbled from a darkness he didn’t understand. And now, outside, a storm churned over the Nantucket Sound and splattered them with rain. The growlingthunder seemed to suggest that nothing would ever be the same again.

Trisha was still wearing her wedding dress. Ryan was in a pair of boxers and an undershirt. He wanted to ask her to take her dress off; it was depressing him, and it looked uncomfortable. But he had the sense that she was trying to cling onto a joy she’d experienced only momentarily today. The joy wasn’t coming back. But he wouldn’t be the one to tell her that.

Trisha cracked a beer and sat on the floor with her big white skirt flung out around her. She looked like a tent. Sometimes she let out a sob, but mostly, she was quiet, watching television on mute with the subtitles on. It was a reality television show, one she liked to watch with her mother.

Although Ryan had seen Trisha watching that show many, many times, it occurred to him just how trashy that show really was. The minute he had the thought, he pushed it away. He didn’t want to acknowledge what his mother and grandmother really thought of Trisha. He didn’t want to ask himself if he did the right thing in marrying her.

It was true that when Ryan had first met Trisha, he hadn’t had marriage on his mind. They’d been on a sailing trip with friends, going up and down the coast and sleeping in random harbors, drinking a little too much, wearing little to no sunscreen and not caring at all about the future. Trisha was a friend of a friend and nobody he’d ever met before. He thought she was pretty, but he also thought all the other women on their trip were pretty. Another friend mentioned in passing that Trisha was related to “the Reeds,” and Ryan had had a flickering memory of seeing the trailers parked side-by-side near the grocery store. His grandmother had talked ill of them, saying they didn’t belong in a place like Nantucket. But Ryan hadn’t thought much of it at the time.

On the sailing trip, Trisha seemed just like the rest of them. She loved beer and wine; she could crack a lobster and a crab with a deftness that spoke of years on the coast; she laughed at all their jokes; and she sang all their favorite songs. Ryan remembered thinking,If I tell my grandmother I went on a trip with the Reed girl, she won’t let me forget it. She’ll tell me Suttons shouldn’t be seen with those folks. But what did that mean? At the time, Ryan was freshly graduated from university, where he’d gotten a degree in advertising and marketing. When Trisha found that out on the sailing trip, she said, “Great! You can sell more junk to people who don’t need it.”

Ryan laughed. “You’re right about that.” He liked how direct she was. It reminded him—hilariously—of his grandmother. He thought,If Grandma Dana ever meets Trisha, she’ll have real competition on her hands.

But Ryan didn’t fall for Trisha romantically till later on in the trip. A sudden storm ripped over them, tossing their boat on the waves. Ryan felt like a toy in God’s playhouse, apt to be destroyed. But Trisha wasn’t frightened in the least. She took charge, ordering Ryan’s wealthier and panicked Nantucket friends around the sailboat, telling them what to do and when to do it. It was because of Trisha that they found clearer waters and eventually dropped anchor and celebrated their survival.

That night, Ryan kissed her. He hadn’t kissed anyone but her since. He hadn’t wanted to. Not once.

Now, sprawled on the floor in front of the sofa, Trisha closed her eyes and draped her head over the cushions. Her neck was gleaming in the moonlight that came in through the apartment window. Ryan considered what he could say to her. But right now, his grandfather’s death on the day of their wedding felt like a bad omen. Maybe they should annul the marriage and try again in a year or so? Perhaps they should have eloped?

It was true that when Ryan had first told his mother he was going to ask Trisha to marry him, Jackie’s smile had looked false and made of playdough. “You have to do what makes you happy,” Jackie had offered.

Suddenly, the phone rang—the one still attached to the wall. Ryan’s family members hadn’t gotten into the habit of calling each other on their cell phones. Ryan got up to answer it and heard his mother talking quickly as though she had too much information to process and was throwing it out on him.

This was what Ryan gleaned:

His grandfather’s funeral would be held in four days. It was best that Ryan and Trisha postpone their honeymoon to Hawaii for the time being; maybe the family could help them go at a later time. Was it possible for Ryan to come to the Sutton Estate tomorrow? His grandmother wanted him to go through some of his grandfather’s clothes and things to see if he wanted them. It was all happening so fast.

“Where are you, Mom?” Ryan interrupted.

“What? I’m at the Estate.”

“You should go home. Get some sleep,” Ryan said.

“I can’t leave your grandmother,” Jackie said.

Ryan swallowed and turned to find that Trisha had abandoned the living room. Next, he heard the shower, and he imagined her scrubbing off all that wedding makeup, the wedding gown thrown across the bathroom tile.

Under his breath, he said, “Trisha is really upset.”

He wanted to ask his mother why she’d said all those heinous things about Rhonda. Why couldn’t she keep her opinion to herself? Why couldn’t his grandmother let him be happy? Why did the Suttons have to control everyone and everything?

For the first time in his life, he wondered why he’d always been so proud to be a Sutton.

“She’s upset?” Jackie blared. “Well, I’m very sorry for her.”

Ryan was suddenly furious. “It was our wedding day. It was supposed to be the happiest day of our lives.”

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